


Reflect

by Adictedtobadguys56



Series: 100 Teen Wolf Fics [11]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Au Peter was never evil, Bad Boy Stiles, Deputy Peter, Fluffy Ending, M/M, Peter is sick of Stiles bull shit, Punishment, Punk Stiles, Shower Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-23 04:56:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2534942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adictedtobadguys56/pseuds/Adictedtobadguys56
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter's turned his life around. He became an upstanding citizen and started working for the Police Department. He's the deputy and Stiles know's this. So, when Stiles has to make his one phone call he calls the Deputy not his dad, but Peter has had it with Stiles and plans to teach him a lesson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reflect

Peter groaned as he answered the phone. He listened carefully to the boy on the other line then sighed. He told him to wait and that he would be there in the morning after his shift, and no he would not tell his dad. Once they were done talking Peter hung up the phone and leaned back in his seat.

He had been working at the precinct for almost seven years now. Ever since the fire Peter had decided it was time to do something to help those who couldn’t help themselves. Being a werewolf, and a cop made things a lot easier and smoother for the police station. Especially after he revealed himself to the Sheriff and brought him into the loop. 

Lucky for Stiles, he didn’t just have his dad to keep him out of trouble he now had Peter. Peter had taken a liking to the boy, and once he turned eighteen what had been a liking became a full out relationship hidden behind the sheriffs back. Peter didn’t blame Stiles for not wanting to tell, he was twenty years older than him after all and did work for Stiles dad. Also, it made Peter look bad, very bad. So, they didn’t talk about it at all.

That was probably the reason Stiles called Peter, not his dad when he had been picked up in LA for public intoxication. Stupid child, needed to learn a lesson, and Peter was going to teach him that lesson the only way a child, like Stiles, could understand. 

Peter reached the LA police station a little after eleven. He signed the paperwork and took Stiles into his custody and assured them it would never happen again. Stiles leaned heavily on Peter as they walked towards his car. Neither spoke; they just walked. 

Peter moved away from Stiles so he could get in. Stiles did and sunk down into the seat closing his eyes and letting out a soft sigh as he started to relax. Peter got in and looked at Stiles, and sighed before starting the long drive back. 

“What’s wrong?”

“You can’t keep doing things like this. One day the paperwork is going to go across your dad’s desk and not mine. One day he’ll find out about the hip tattoos and the drinking and then I won’t be able to help you. Hell I get in trouble for just knowing,” Peter said, his eyes focused on the road. He wasn’t even going to give Stiles a glance.

“It’s no big deal. I was just stupid, next time I won’t walk out in public and cause a scene,” Stiles said laying his seat back. Peter let out another frustrated sigh.

“Look Stiles, you don’t understand. I get it you came up with a lot of rules and now that you have none you’re going crazy, but I’m about to make some for you,” Peter said in a serious voice. Well, as serious as he could be knowing what was going to happen when they got back to his house. 

“Don’t try to analyze me like I’m some criminal!”

“You are some criminal, Stiles. You have an arrest record now. Or did you forget the night you spent in a jail cell sobering up?” Peter snapped.

“You know what fuck you pull the car over I’m walking,” Stiles said sitting his seat up. Peter did as he said and pulled the car over. Stiles quickly jumped out of the car cussing under his breath as he stormed out and away from the car. 

Peter was out only seconds after him. He let out a low growl then grabbed Stiles by his wrist, yanking him back towards the car. Stiles fought with every ounce of strength he had until Peter slammed his back into his car. He placed his hands on either side of Stiles and peered down at him.

“You don’t get it do you Stiles? You're a naughty little boy, and naughty children get punished. Now get back in the car, or I’ll punish you right here right now,” Peter said. His tone was cold and dead serious sending a slight chill down Stiles' spine. It was times like this that reminded Stiles that Peter was older and had the upper hand, not just because he was a wolf, but because he knew what to say to make Stiles listen. 

“Right” He draws out the words and looks at Peter. Before ducking out from under his arms and moving to get back in the car. Peter lets him and then joins him. Now, it’s just along a quiet car ride back to his place. 

Four hours is how long Stiles got to sleep. His teeth bit down on his lip, and his body tossed a little. Silent groans and moans came out as the scent of arousal filled the car. Peter grit his teeth knowing he had been stupid, but it was pointless to pull the car over just to fix the teens’ problem, even if it was making it increasingly hard to drive. No, he needed to wait, he needed to be good for him that’s all he had going for him, at least that’s what Stiles said. 

The first time they had hooked up in the supply closet at work, Stiles claimed that Peter, like Parrish a few years back, just needed to let out his urges. He couldn’t and shouldn’t always be so good. Yet, whenever Peter did Stiles just laughed, almost as if he was mocking him. He would also call his efforts cute and deem them not good enough. He always claimed that he wasn’t giving in completely still being a boy scout, like Scott. God, it drove Peter nuts. He was going to change that today. He was going to put that bratty kid in his place even if he had to use force. 

“Stiles get up,” Peter said, his tone cold and harsh as he gives Stiles a rather rough push. Stiles jumped feeling Peter push him, and looked around groggily. 

“We’re back?” He asked pawing at his eyes in an attempt to wake up.

“Yes,” Peter replied getting out and heading to the door. Peter had saved up enough money from work and the insurance on the old house that he had recently bought himself a new house. It wasn’t much just a small two story with two bedrooms, one and half baths, a small back yard that back against the woods, and a pool. 

“Wait up,” Stiles called getting out of the car and following after Peter who didn’t respond he just let the two of them into the house and moved towards the upstairs. Stiles followed after, eager to see what it was that Peter had in store for him. His eyes roamed across the man’s brown uniform, the way it hugged his arms and broad shoulders, made him wet his lips impatiently. 

“So, what do you have in store for me officer?” Stiles asked, leaning against the door frame to Peter’s bedroom. Peter looked over his shoulder at Stiles but continued to undress. He hated his uniform it always felt too tight, especially when he was getting a boner. 

“Sit on the bed, don’t move, and don’t talk, or there will be consequences,” Peter said. Stiles nodded and did as he was told sitting on the edge of the bed. He thought he saw a small tent in Peter’s boxers, but he couldn’t comment on it, he just smiled. 

Peter moved into the bathroom to change out of his clothes. He slipped into a pair of loose fitting jeans and a plain white V-neck shirt. He looked at himself in the mirror making sure that his slight boner couldn’t be seen before he grabbed a towel and walked back out to the bedroom. 

“What is that for?” Stiles asked.

“I told you to be quiet. I can get a gag,” Peter says, calmly. Stiles blinks slightly shocked by what Peter said. His mouth hangs pen just a little, the way Peter likes. He loves when Stiles looks dumbfounded, or confused, his jaw slacks and his lips part. Sometimes he even runs his tongue over his lips. It’s practically sinful. 

Peter moves to sit on the bed. He spreads the towel out across his lap, before he looks at Stiles. He smiles softly before telling him to strip. Stiles waste no time stripping. He’s quick about it; he wants Peter to see him, see each curve of his thin body, the long thin muscles that stretch across his arms from having played lacrosse in high school. He wants him to look at the two black star tattoos on his hip bones. He wants him to touch them, suck on them the way he did in his dream, but he knows better than to voice his opinion. Stiles knows that if he does Peter will deny him what he wants. 

“I want you to lay across my lap face down with you lower torso resting right across my legs,” Peter instructs. Stiles is starting to get a bad feeling about this. He looks around quickly seeing that Peter hasn’t brought out the lube. He hasn’t even stripped down to nothing the way he usually does before sex. 

“Remember, I told you this was punishment,” Peter adds as Stiles starts to make his way over to him. He lays down with very little fuss making sure to press down on Peters crotch with his own. He wants’s to make him hard, make he realize that what he’s going to do won’t work.

“Stop,” Peter said his hand coming down hard against Stiles left butt cheek. Stiles let out a loud cry of pain and tries to bolt up and away from Peter, but he can’t. Peter’s free arm has his upper body pinned down to the bed, “Don’t talk, don’t wiggle, just count starting with one and going to thirty, got it?” He asked his voice calm. 

“Yes, officer,” Stiles mutters burying his face down, in the bed. Peter raised his hand and brought it down on the same cheek. This time harder. Stiles let out a cry of pain and for a moment he was silent, wondering if Peter would stop if he just didn’t count.

“Each number you miss I’m adding another five swats,” Peter growled smacking the other cheek five times. Each hit is hard and rapid and once he’s done he runs his fingers over the bright red skin, softly. Enjoying the feeling of warmth on his rough fingers, “Now count start at one and go to thirty,” He instructed.

“Yes, officer,” Stiles chokes out through his tears. How easily Peter had reduced him to a sobbing mess. His ass was on fire, and Peter’s hands weren’t doing much to help. He just wants it to be over; he wants the pain to stop. But, it’s only just beginning.

The first few swats are hard, Peter’s leveling out the pain on each cheek. Stiles keep counting taking comfort in knowing that once he gets to thirty he can stop counting, he can cry. But Peter stops one swat short.

“Twenty-nine,” Stiles repeats thinking that maybe Peter just hadn’t heard him. He was hoping it was that Peter just hadn’t heard him, which wasn’t logical because Peter could hear anything. Peter runs his hands over Stiles red ass softly before leaning down to kiss both cheeks. 

“Are you going to finish?” Stiles ask, because this feeling a lot like after care. Peter is silent as he presses soft kisses to the warm red flesh.

“Yeah,” He says softly sitting up and bringing his hand down one last time across both cheeks. Stiles groans out the word thirty and just goes limp on top of Peter. Peter chuckles softly before gently pushing him off his lap.

“What the hell?” Stiles snap after moving to sit on his knees since his ass is in too much pain for him to sit on it. Peter doesn’t respond he just stands up and places the towel on the bed. He then moved around and grabs Stiles, picking him up, and throwing him on the bed.

“Stay,” He commands before walking into the bathroom. Stiles lays still on his stomach burying his head into the towel. It doesn’t take long for Peter to return with a small clear bottle with the word Aloe written in Deaton’s handwriting.

“What is that?” He asked looking at Peter, who’s somehow lost his clothes. He crawls over to Stiles and drops a few drops on his ass. Their cold and slick, sliding along the perfect curve. He groans and grips the sheets.

“Did you know Aloe not only had great healing abilities it makes a great lube,” Peter said. He wasn’t even trying anymore to hide the fact that he was slightly hard. Each smack had caused Stiles to press down into his lap. He wiggled each time, just a bit, and enough to give Peter a nice boner. 

“No, I didn’t,” Stiles groaned feeling Peters’ rough hands slide across his ass. The aloe is cold, but his hands are warm. He's slow, very slow. Peter is drawing this out, enjoying what he sees below him, and Stiles know this. He can feel his cold blue eyes on his ass. He can feel the looks and is thoroughly embarrassed. He can’t even remember the last time that he was spanked. It had to be some time before his mom died because after that his dad had kind of given up on trying to punish Stiles. 

Stiles is jolted out of his thoughts by Peter roughly shoving his index finger inside of him. It’s long enough to reach his prostate, but Peter doesn’t touch it he just adds another so that he’s able to scissor him. 

“Shit Peter do-“

“Silence,” Peter snaps his hand coming down on Stiles ass causing him to cry out in pain. His hands twist into fist capturing the sheet as he closes his mouth. “Naughty boys do not get a say in what happens during their punishment,” Peter says, firmly. He knows he can be rough with him; Stiles likes it. They had long since established a safe word, bat. It was a stupid word if you asked Peter, but Stiles had chosen it, since he usually received most of the pain. 

Peter goes back to scissoring his ass. He doesn’t particularly want to stretch him too much. He just wants to get as much lube into him as he can, so he adds a third finger. Stiles groan out, a mixture of pleasure and pain, as the feels the third finger in him. The nice feeling of his fingers is soon enhanced by the cold feeling of lube being dripped into his hole. He bites down on the towel as he tries not to say anything. He wants to tell Peter he can be rougher. He wants Peter to know he can take it, everything. 

Peter removes his hand and starts to stroke his cock looking at Stiles. Sometime during the process he had gotten on his knees. His ass was spread before him as Stiles chest rested against the towel. He looks delicious, and he smells even better. It was the same scent as in the car but stronger because Peter had done just enough to get Stiles to drip pre-cum. He licks his lips as he watches Stiles try to figure out what he is doing. He can practically see the wheels spinning in Stiles' head as he starts to add lube to his cock.

“I want you to reach back with your hands and spread your cheeks for me,” Peter instructed. Stiles doesn’t waste any time doing as he is told. He knows that if he misses even one beat Peter might spank him again, and he certainly doesn’t want that. Peter can now see Stiles tight hole before him. He leans in and presses a soft kiss to it making Stiles jump. He’s not expecting it, especially after what he’s just gone through. 

Stiles wants to feel Peter inside him. He wants him so bad, but he can’t ask. So, he just tries to press his ass closer to Peter and of course Peter notices. His hand comes down hard on Stiles ass. Stiles almost falls but does his best to stay up, and silent. 

“Stay still,” Peter instructs. He figures that it’s time to stop tormenting the boy, so he props himself up onto his knees and takes hold of Stiles' hips. He looks at him for a moment before he shoves himself in. Stiles isn’t ready by any means to take all of Peter. He lets out a loud cry of pain, but Peter isn’t stopping he doesn’t hear the word bat. 

Stiles lets out a groan when he pulls away to thrust back into him. His mouth is open slightly, and he’s panting trying his best to keep his body in check. He wants to fall and take Peter with him. He can’t do it though; Peters got him holding his ass open for him. If he just falls Peter will be angry, and he will get another spanking. But then again, the thought of that’s not helping.

“Fuck Peter!” He cries out his hands slipping as he reaches forward to grab the sheet. Peter’s hand comes down hard on his ass. Stiles cries out as he feels himself orgasm. His hand’s grip the sheet as his toes curl. He can feel his breath catching inside his throat as a silent scream erupts from his lips. Peter is ramming into his prostate, his nails digging roughly into his ivory skin. He can feel blood dripping down his legs and onto the towel. 

Peter can’t stop himself the sweet scent of blood and cum hit his nose hard. He’s thrusting harder than he ever has for Stiles. He knows that he’s hitting his prostate it doesn’t take much for Peter to find it. He had found it every time they fucked and always used it to get Stiles off, but this time he was using it to get himself off. 

“Peter, slow down. Please. Fuck!” Stiles finally screeches out his voice raw as he feels Peter pull out. He let’s go of Stiles who collapsed just as his hot cum shoots across the teens back. Peter closed his eyes feeling the warmth of his orgasm flow through his body. 

“S-sorry, Stiles I just tried to let myself go for you,” Peter says, breathlessly. Stiles groans and gives him a thumbs up before rolling onto his back to look up at Peter. He’s covered in cum, and Peter can’t help but smile as he looks down at him.

“It’s fine. I deserved it, like you said I was a naughty boy; I had to be punished,” 

“I’m glad you understand,” Peter said leaning down to kiss Stiles. The kiss is soft, and just lips on lips. Stiles reaches up with his weak arms and runs his fingers through Peter’s hair feeling the sweat. It’s then that he becomes very aware of how hot, and sticky he is. 

“I need a shower,” He mutters against Peter’s lips. Peter chuckles and pulls away before getting off the bed. He takes one final look at his mess then offers Stiles his hand. The boy takes it; he’s a little wobbly on his feet, but he does make it to the bathroom where Peter runs them a shower. 

“Wash me,” Stiles whines as he drapes his arms around Peter’s neck, just to keep his balance. Peter smiles and grabs his wash cloth then his body wash. He’s careful as he does it; he doesn’t want to hurt Stiles any more than he already has. 

Each and every touch seems to draw some noise from Stiles. Some get grunt’s other groans, but most of all Peter hears sighs and soft exhales of held breath. He's as gentle as he can; he wants to show Stiles that he loves him and even if he was mad at him he’s not anymore.

“Peter,” Stiles say’s as he turns to rest his head against the cold brown tile in Peters shower.

“Yeah?” He asks, starting to wash his back.

“You know that I love you right?” He asks. Peter just smiles and places a soft kiss to Stiles left shoulder blade.

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> OMG THIS TOOK ME FOREVER TO WRITE!
> 
> HAPPY STETER WEEK DAY 5!!!!!
> 
> Prompt: Good! Peter
> 
> Anyway's i'm obsessed with Punk! Stiles so I figured I'd work that into Steter week some how, and look I did it :D 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it :D


End file.
